Years passed, and Bubbles grew from a reckless kitten into a dignified cat. His fur remained remarkably white except after exploring Clara’s flowerbeds. He disliked strangers, thunderstorms, and closed kitchen doors. He loved chicken, warm laundry, and sleeping across Clara’s ankles whenever winter nights became particularly cold.
Clara’s world gradually narrowed as arthritis worsened inside both knees. Clara read local crime reports each morning with breakfast. A stolen purse, a broken window, and a garage burglary felt like warnings addressed directly to her. Henry once reminded her newspapers rarely printed ordinary kindness. Without him beside her, however, the frightening stories seemed louder and much closer than before. However, she still walked through the park on evenings her legs felt stronger.